


Oh, what a world, and then there is you

by LaDiDah



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmates, alternative universe - cowboy, larrysoulmateexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15743940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDiDah/pseuds/LaDiDah
Summary: Harry and Louis have met many times before, in many different universes. Soulmates always find each other.





	Oh, what a world, and then there is you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [realeyesrealize](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realeyesrealize/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this fic, giftee! I tried really hard with it, despite running out of time to get it beta'd. xxx

**Wednesday 24th April 1811**

 

‘Felicity, that’s not becoming,’ Louis hissed, glancing around them as Felicity tugged a novel from her bosom.

Felicity ignored him, turning to a folded over page and moving furtively towards the corner of the ballroom. Louis sighed, knowing he was lucky she even made it out the carriage. Felicity hated balls, meeting new people, any part of the marriage mart really. She was happiest at home, tucked away somewhere. But Louis knew the world beyond mere ink and paper, he knew that once married she would have more freedom - she just needed the perfect match.

Despite his luck in past matchmaking (Lottie married last Spring and Phoebe was enthralled with the young gentleman in the next village,) Louis knew getting his sisters happily married would be a challenge - and he took his job as their guardian very seriously. With his parents passed it fell to him to look after their education and happiness. They hadn’t been left with a lot, the girls barely had a thousand apiece, but their beauty and easy tempers made them very appealing to all the young gentlemen. Louis wasn’t going to approve any Tom, Dick or Harry however, his sisters deserved the best and he would rather they stayed old maids with him forever than sat in grand houses with terrible husbands. His sister’s happiness was his main priority, he wouldn’t even think of a match for himself until they were happily settled.

‘Fancy a dance?’ a voice cut through Louis’ thoughts, and he jumped, spilling his punch.

‘Oh for goodness,’ he muttered, dabbing at the red stain spreading across his ivory breaches. He looked up, frown etched across his face to see a familiar sight.

‘Oops,’ Harry grinned, offering him a hand, ‘didn’t mean to surprise you, Louis’.

‘I have asked you to not use my given name,’ Louis reminded him, handing the soiled napkin to a hovering servant. The servant looked disdainful, but gamely took it.

‘But it’s so lovely,’ Harry sighed, ‘it pains me so not to use it. Louis, Louis, Louis’.

Louis could see the girls giggling over them, fluttering their fans and making sport of him.

‘What more can I say, your grace’. Louis looked around for a savior, but only saw Liam helplessly flirting with Zayn as usual. Neither were aware of much around them. ‘I do not want to take a drive, or visit the gardens. I do not care for opera, or to meet your dog’.

‘You also rejected my advances for a visit at your home,’ Harry reminded him. ‘I can come most days after 2pm’.

The society mamas were lurking, anything to do with the rakish Earl Styles always caught their interest. With such a grand estate and a family fortune he was always invited to every party or event. However, it was known that Earl Styles rarely accepted any invitations, and preferred to go shopping for hair ribbons with his sister rather than go gambling, hunting, or any other gentlemanly pursuits. The only way to secure his attendance was to secure the Tomlinsons.

‘I would even risk the scandal of a waltz,’ Harry tried his most charming smile, but Louis avoided his gaze. ‘I think I would risk anything for you, Louis’.

‘I need to attend to my sisters.’ Louis looked around, trying to avoid how pretty Harry’s curls looked in the lamplight.

‘They seem well cared for, my friend Niall is dancing with Miss Daisy and I believe my Mother is conversing with Miss Felicity over her novel’.

Louis looked and saw he was right. ‘Then you must excuse me, I urgently find myself in need of air’. He caught sight of Harry’s crestfallen face, felt a pang deep in his chest and determinedly kept heading towards the door.

 

After the Tomlinsons arrived home, Mary took care of the girls whilst Louis carefully hung up his finery. Having a valet was an expense he couldn’t afford so he made sure he looked immaculate through cajolying Alexander to find an iron or even asking Niall for his tailor’s off-cuts. Despite the embarrassment, he wouldn’t have his girls ashamed of him.

Once we wearily slid into bed, smiling as he felt the soft blankets cocoon his body, he heard a shy knock at the door, and Felicity’s face appeared.

‘Come on then, little love’ Louis said, lifting the blanket and watching as Felicity tiptoed across the room and dove under the blankets, shivering.

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ she said, swifting on her side to face him and resting her head on her hand, the other tucked underneath the pillow 

‘Was quite a night,’ Louis agreed.

‘You spent most of it outside, hiding from Harry, we saw you’.

‘He’s Earl Styles to us Fizzy,’ Louis chastised her.

‘He doesn’t have to be, he’s told us many times to just call him Harry’.

Louis just looked at her, Felicity sighed.

‘I know you think you need to protect us Louis,’ she bit her lip. ‘But we also want you to be happy.’

‘I’ll be happy when you are all settled,’ Louis reminded her, ‘I’m perfectly fine here by myself if needs be’.

‘He’s not the rake he’s made out to be’. Felicity said in a rush, going red as Louis looked at her aghast, surely his little sister shouldn’t know of such things!

‘He’s not,’ she continued, ‘Alice told Sarah who told the girl in the modiste. It’s all just rumours, he’s never called on anyone properly, or courted anyone’.

‘You should focus more on your education rather than silly gossip,’ Louis said, trying to squash the little burst of joy he words brought him.

‘You usually tell me to put my books away,’ Felicity replied teasingly, with a yawn.

‘Time for us to sleep I think,’ Louis turned over and blew out the candle. ‘Night, love’.

 Louis was just about to fall asleep when Felicity spoke again, her voice drowsy and barely audible.

 ‘He loves you, Louis’.

 

**Monday 3rd August 1863**

 

 **‘** Someone kind,’ Louis muttered to himself, twisting the pencil back and forth over his fingers.

‘Someone who likes children,’ he continued, writing it down neatly. He thought of his family, just over the meadow in their own homestead. They were a big part of his life, and he joined them for the Autumn harvest every year, leaving Bill in charge of his own ranch. They would need to get along with everyone, not be scared to dirty their hands making a mud pie or be too shy to laugh with his sisters.

‘Pretty,’ he added, before scratching it out. Pretty wasn’t a necessity in the plains of Dakota. Those who could marry for money went east in search of a wealthy partner, instead of staying and working all their life.

Louis looked out through the window, the curtain’s Lottie made for him last Spring fluttering in the last of the summer heat. It had been a long summer, hot and dry and he longed for the first flush of cool air. The horses didn’t like it either, tails constantly flicking to get rid of the pesky flies. The grass was nearly all gold straw, making it difficult to look outside without squinting. Louis built the cabin about a decade ago, with the help of John, before he died. Now the ranch was his, and he could sometimes hear John’s laughter in the swaying of the corn. He knew John had wanted him to find someone, ‘go courtin!’ he had always told him, ‘before you get too crotchety and mean looking, like me.’

Louis hadn’t had time for courting, he had a ranch to run and his family to keep an eye on. He barely made it to town, Felicity liked to bring him meals and Lottie made all his clothes. If he did venture into town, he always got stared at. It made him itchy and anxious, all those eyes on him. It made him want to retreat back into the calm shadows of the stables or sit on his porch swaying back and forth.

So this was now his option, posting an ad in the paper and hoping a lonely man would see his offer of companionship. He felt he had something to offer, a safe and warm home, a small but loving family - he liked to think he was a thoughtful man.

When it came down to it, he just wanted someone to talk to, share his life with. With a nod to himself Louis found a stamp in his desk drawer and sealed the envelope. It was now in the hands of fate.

 

‘But _why_?’ Gemma asked, wringing her hands together.

‘You know why Gemma,’ Harry said, turning his back on her and continuing to pack his belongings. He didn’t have a lot, a few books, shirts, a cookbook that belonged to his Grandmother. ‘You’re married now, Mum is going to live with you. I need to make my own life. I don’t want to become a lonely old man, watching your life and not having any children myself’.

‘But you can come and live with us too,’ Gemma’s eyes were filled with tears, ‘there is room’.

‘Gemma,’ Harry said, taking her hands and smiling at her. ‘I’m going to be fine, I showed you his letters, he’s a very nice man’.

‘But it’s just a letter, what can it really show?’

Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself that Gemma was only looking out for him. But it was easy for her, she had met her husband at the town dance and within a fortnight were engaged. It wasn’t easy for him, men tended to court women as it was so much easier to have children. The few men in town who were eligible were either mean or old. Harry was too old to be a dreamer, but he still hoped for a marriage made of love. Maybe this Louis wouldn’t be able to give him that, but he still had hope. His letters showed a kind man, who liked his family and wanted children some day. That was more than enough.

 

The train pulled into the station with a creaky hiss, smoke pouring off the bright red paint. Louis held his arm over his eyes so he could see, watching as the ladies carefully manoeuvred their skirts so they could depart. He felt jittery right down to his bones, he could barely stop tapping his feet. Harry was on this train, he would be getting off any second. In about an hour he would be married.

Louis was just watching a small boy jump off the train with a gleeful yell when the sunshine disappeared as a man stood in front of him.

The man looked to be about twenty, with curly dark hair and big green eyes. Louis hadn't asked for pretty, but he had certainly got it. He looked nervous, biting his bottom lip. His clothes were worn but clean and neat, he smiled as he noticed a sparkling collar pin. It looked like something handmade, like it had once belonged to his Pa. Just seeing that made him feel better, surely he thought this was a special occasion too.

‘I’m Harry,’ the man said, holding out a hand. Louis took it, beaming.

‘Hello there, I’m Louis. This is one way to meet, I guess!’

Harry smiled, ‘This is all I’ve got’ he gestured to his small suitcase, ‘so I guess I'm all yours’. He instantly turned pink. ‘I mean, I’m ready’.

Trying not to feel endeared by this sweetheart of a man, Louis gestured for him to lead the way, ‘courthouse is over here,’ he declared, ‘lets get hitched’.

 

The service was short and simple, Carey from the pharmacy was a witness and his old buddy Clem from the dairy agreed to be the other. Louis barely heard the minister’s words as he found himself unable to look away from his soon-to-be husband. Harry’s own eyes kept darting back and forth, looking down shyly when he felt Louis’ gaze upon him. At the conclusion of the ceremony Louis pressed a chaste kiss to Harry’s cheek before thanking the minister. 

They had a simple lunch in the salon round the corner, with the owner congratulating them and offering them a cold beer each as a present. They headed back to the prairie before sundown, Louis quietly told Harry about where they were headed, touched when Harry recalled details from their letters.

‘That’s where you sheltered from the blizzard last November?’ he asked, pointing at the lean-to tin frame, which hid a small underground room.

‘Yes,’ Louis remembered huddling in there with baby Ernest, terrified that the walls would cave in on them, he had never heard such a sound. Ernest had been staying with him since Doris had caught scarlet fever from the schoolyard and they needed to send him away for his own safety. At that moment, huddled with the baby - he had felt like he had failed Ernest in protecting him.

‘We don't have such bad storms at home,’ Harry turned and admired the sunflowers growing on the fencepost. If you paid attention you could hear the horses settling down to rest.

‘Life is tougher here,’ Louis said simply, before pushing the gate open and inviting Harry to explore his new home.

 

Louis had expected it to be awkward, having a stranger in his house; but it was surprisingly easy. He was finding that Harry made everything easy. He now woke up to a cheerful, humming husband who usually pressed a shy kiss to his cheek before padding off to make biscuits.

Louis tended to the horses and checked on the corn before heading in at about midday, where Harry had usually made dinner or was scribbling in his notebook. They ate together, Louis letting him know about how the ranch worked, who he dealt with and what he could help with. Harry often talked about his family and friends back east and what he planned to sew for the house.

Harry had found John’s sister’s old sewing machine tucked behind the outhouse and had delighted in it, proming Louis a new slipcover and tablecloth by the end of the week. Dan had brought over some furs from last Fall and Harry had planned to make a jacket and rug. It was tough most days to stop Harry from crossing the meadow to visit Louis’ family, and he was a firm favourite with all of them - especially the babies who clung to him and delighted in tugging his curls.  Louis had assumed when he asked for a husband - or mail order bride as Felicity jokingly called him, he might be a lazy bones; but Harry loved to meet the animals, tidy the house or just follow Louis around. It was nice. That felt like a strange thing to think, but it was nice. Not being alone, having someone else to talk to, laugh with when Diamond tried to kick him. He hadn’t realised how lonely he had been until Harry came into his life, dimples and all.

 

**Thursday 3rd October 2003.**

 

Harry sighed as the bride tugged on her dress for the thousandth time, pulling down the neckline.

'It's not Maxim,' Steve patiently told her once more, 'think more church, not club'.

The bride rolled her eyes, Harry couldn't quite remember her name. _Lindsay? Lola?_

'Looking great,' Steve muttered as his camera clicked and flashed. Harry tried to look like this was the best day of his life. Sadly, this day was low on the list. His suit was itchy, he had forgotten to let out Maisie his cat and he was certain to be late for his dinner with Gemma.

'Big smiles, he's the one Lindsay!' Steve shouted, 'aren't you a lucky girl'.

Lindsay scoffed in a way Harry found, frankly, insulting. He was a catch!

'Who's your ideal man?' Steve asked, standing up and adjusting the lighting.

'Patrick Dempsey.' Harry said, at the same time Lindsay said, 'Jamie Dornan'.

'I was talking to her, really' Steve said apologetically. 'Now, imagine Harry here is Jamie Dornan.'

Lindsay beamed at Harry, her bouquet of pink lilies looking beautiful against her ivory gown.

'There we go,' Steve said encouragingly, 'much better'.

After the shoot had finished and Harry sadly surveyed his red skin _, damm that itchy suit_ , he made his way to the tube station. His career wasn't supposed to be like this, he had dreamed of modelling for YSL, Gucci. But he had ended up being a groom-for-hire for magazines like Young Bride and Weddings! It wasn't what he had dreamed of, but it paid the bills. He didn't bother going for high fashion or couture auditions now, he felt too old at 23 when he knew the new face of Prada was 17.

After a long dinner with Gemma, she had banned alcohol for the night and had hounded Harry about his life's choices, _'you can't just settle down and run a puppy daycare Harry',_ he finally made it home, yawning widely as he got off the bus and rounded the corner to his flat. His flat was an absolute steal, his aunt owned it and rented it out to him on family rates. It was small, but it was all his own. Most of his money went into his savings, he had a secret pinterest board which had his dream home pictured in every detail; a garden full of flowers with big, open windows and a beautiful open-place kitchen. Sadly he could not add the things he wanted most, a husband waiting for him at the door; and maybe a crib in the spare room. But sometimes he felt so close, picking out curtains or the perfect rocking chair; it felt real. Other times he couldn't stand to look at it, his last relationship ended a year ago but the fallout still echoed in his head. It wasn't like he just wanted a husband to feel happy, he wanted to find his best friend, his soulmate. He didn't want to be a father by himself, he envied those who had the strength, but it wasn't what he pictured.

The next photo shoot was only marginally better. Annabel was quite sweet, she certainly looked like an angel in her tulle ball gown. She clung to Harry's arm with a zealous devotion and even managed to squeeze out a few tears on cue. The photograph from _June Brides_ cooed over how cute they looked together; asking if they would like to do another photoshoot, maybe for a Christmas themed wedding? Harry couldn't imagine anything worse but agreed amiably, it was money after all. Niall was doing the lights as usual, smirking at Harry and pouting at him whenever their eyes met.

'Christmas themed eh?' he said, biting back a smile.

'Ho Ho Ho,' Harry intoned dully, grabbing a piece of melon and taking a large bite.

'Are you doing the beach one next week?' Niall checked.

Harry nodded, 'Yep, should be a balmy -3 degrees' he laughed, 'what a dream!'.

'You always have a choice mate,' Niall adjusted one of the reflective shades, 'You can pick your jobs'.

'I'm a groom.' Harry said grouchily. 'I smile, pretend it's the best day of my life, take the bow tie off and come home'.

'It's all about the bride,' Niall agreed, 'you're just a suit for hire'.

'Thanks Niall, you've really cheered me up.' Harry rolled his eyes.

'Being sarcastic doesn't suit you Haz,' Niall told him, gesturing at him to get back to work. 'Go on, you're the talent - don't get stuck talking to the help'.

Harry sighed but walked back to Annabel's side, trying to fake a smile as Clementine poured confetti over his head. That would be stuck in the shower drain later.

'Well this is fucking shit,' Louis complained, as he tried frantically to stop his eyes from watering.

'So sorry!' Poppy cried, looking close to tears, 'my hand slipped!'.

'Half of that eyeliner pencil is in my eye!' Louis stood up and moved towards the sink, cursing as he tripped over a pair of shoes.

'I'll just go and get your sister,' Poppy said, dashing out.

Louis felt mean then, but after peering at his eye in the mirror, bright red and streaming - he could cope with feeling mean. This was the photoshoot of his career, with his dream brand - Adidas no less and now he looked like a cyclops.

'What's happened?' Lottie asked, leaning on the doorframe and sucking a lollipop.

'Your bloody intern,' Louis pointed at his eyes, 'what do you think happened Lots?'

Lottie winced, 'It's fixable'.

Louis just looked at her. Well, squinted at her.

'I'm magic,' she assured him, moving closer and cupping his chin in her hands. 'Now, let’s get that eye bath kit, and you'll be fine in no time'.

Lottie actually was magic, but it was pretty grating to hear her singing that over and over down the corridor as she went back to Kendall. His eye actually looked normal, the eyeliner was all gone and a tiny bit of extra concealer had taken care of the redness. He couldn't stop looking at himself in the mirror, checking a patchy bit of stubble and scratching it. He sighed as that made it worse.

'Good as it's going to get Tommo,' came a voice from the door.

'Fuck off Liam,' Louis frowned, 'I'm a masterpiece'.

'You're a piece of something,' Liam hummed, before kicking off his trainers and making himself at home on Louis' dressing room sofa.

'Are you here to be supportive or a prick?' Louis asked.

Liam tilted his head, 'little bit of both?'

Louis huffed, squinting into the mirror. ‘'Deal, now tell me I'm pretty'.

The beach looked like fun. Harry could objectively realise this, the waves were crashing over the sand, the white foam looked like lace as it bubbled back and forth. The sun was peeking out from behind a white, fluffy cloud and he could smell the sea.

 

However, subjectively, it was not fun. The water was absolutely freezing, causing his skin to turn an attractive scarlet and a group of teens were catcalling over by the pier, remarking on his chattering teeth and 'lanky legs'. Earlier that day Fiona had begun with a formal photoshoot in the ornamental gardens; now she was trying to capture an 'avant garde beach reception' where the non-existent guests built sandcastles and licked ice-creams. The newlyweds were supposed to be frolicking in the surf, beside themselves with glee. Harry had been given a tiny pair of yellow shorts, his bride for the day Michelle had drawn the short straw and was stuck in a rapidly see-through white bikini with a silly veil hanging from her damp ponytail. She had been an absolute trooper though, barely complained even when Fiona shouted at her that she should have had a wax.

The next look was them going off on their honeymoon, and a best man and maid of honour would be joining them later over by the cark park, _oh the glamour_ , to wave the vintage sports car goodbye. Getting to drive that beautiful convertible was the only thing getting Harry through the afternoon, especially after Niall kept throwing chips at him, hoping to attract seagulls.

'Ah, Louis!' Fiona called, 'you're early, but no bother. Should be another 15 minutes,' she paused, 'if,' she continued icily, 'Michelle could try to remember she needs to keep her chin down'.

Harry looked up, peering through his hair which had become wildly out of control. He caught sight of the man, Louis, and felt like Ariel when she first stumbled over Prince Eric. Louis was beautiful. He seemed to be quite tiny, and had on a black hoodie and trackie bottoms which looked to be deceptively expensive. His hair was a sort of caramel brown and he had eyes that crinkled when he smiled. Harry was so focused on admiring the interloper he didn't anticipate the next wave, and with an unmanly shriek he fell over, arms pinwheeling. When he emerged spluttering, Michelle dragging him up, he could barely bring himself to stand. He would have preferred to sink to the bottom of the ocean rather than have such a gorgeous man witness his absolute embarrassment.

'Are you okay, Harry?' Michelle asked kindly, offering him a steadying arm.

'I want to die,' Harry groaned, yanking up his shorts and blushing as he realised he had nearly exposed himself to the whole beach.

'Christ Harry!' Fiona shouted, 'I wasn't asking for softcore, love!'

Harry closed his eyes. He imagined he wasn't here at all. He was at home watching an old movie, or out watching Nick hit on 20 year olds. Anywhere but here. He would even take reliving his Mum trying to explain safe sex with the help of a parsnip and a balloon.

Louis was standing next to Fiona, and offered a wave when Harry could bear to look at him.

'Y’okay love?' he asked, his accent making Harry's legs feel wobbly.

Harry just nodded, and stumbled forwards gratefully when Fiona announced they could come out of the water now.

'Here you go,' Louis said, offering him a fluffy blue towel. Up close he was even more devastating and Harry was trying to stop himself from reaching out to stroke his scruffy chin.

'Thanks, I'm Harry,' he offered, taking the towel and dragging it over his head.

Louis laughed as Harry's hair poofed out everywhere. 'Louis,' he proffered a hand. 'Nice to meet you, I don't usually get boys falling over at the mere sight of me'.

Harry looked down, biting his lip. Louis may be joking, but this was all too true.

Harry mumbled, 'I do a lot of wedding shoots like this. I should be used to it by now’.

Louis nodded, ‘I bet it was weird when you actually got married though,' he laughed, pointing to Harry's ring finger.

Harry looked down dumbly, 'Oh, that's just for the shoot, I'm not married!' Harry yanked the ring off, 'not married at all, I'm single, like forever single.'

Louis looked surprised, then he smirked. 'That's a shock, cutie like you'.

Harry felt like his face was on fire.

'We're ready to begin,' Fiona yelled. Harry had never hated anyone more.

 

**Sunday 28th December 2025**

 

‘Who gets married at Christmas?’ Gemma huffed, as she slammed her phone down onto the coffee table.

‘Um, we do’. Harry offered sheepishly.

‘Well, Auntie Jane is stuck on the M25, hasn’t moved in 2 hours and the florists have been delayed’.

‘It’s going to be fine Gem,’ Louis smiled.

Gemma was sick of these two, with their hopeless optimism. Despite the fact that her little brother would marry Louis at a bus stop on a Monday morning, he deserved better. Now the wedding was less than 9 hours away and everything was chaos, if she listened carefully she could hear Doris screaming because she refused to wear her bridesmaid dress. The fact that she couldn’t hear much else didn’t reassure her.

‘Don’t _Gem_ ,’ me she said, pulling a face. ‘Your wedding is going to end up being just me and probably Liam, throwing some old petals at you’.

‘As long as we get married,’ Harry said, moonily.

Gemma just threw her hands up and went to find her Mum. Hopefully she had some alcohol.

 

Alan stood at the front desk, smiling gamely as the rush of the morning flew by him. Having a wedding at the hotel was always exciting, and the two grooms were quite sweet - always looking like they were lost in their own world.

However, he couldn’t look so favourably on the rest of the wedding party. The Tomlinson party were running riot round the hotel, leaving a trail of giggles and fake tan on every sheet. The Styles side were better behaved, despite the frankly alarming mini bar bill.

Still, he thought. Weddings were a time to celebrate.

 

‘Come the fuck on’. Niall screamed, banging the steering wheel. He had been stuck trying to get out of the driveway for nearly 16 minutes now. Gemma had instructed him with fetching some last minute extra confetti, and despite knowing nowhere would be open - he had seen her face and had just nodded.

Finally the van moved and Niall shot forward, shaking his head at the driver who just smirked. He drove his way through the pretty grounds, covered in a light sprinkling of snow. Why his two best mates chose to get married during Winter, he would never know. He would go for Summer, maybe somewhere abroad.

‘I’m not wearing it,’ Doris said, point blank. She even yawned, to show her immense boredom in the debate.

‘You are,’ Lottie said ominously, turning from where she was plaiting Felicity’s hair.

‘I’m not, it’s ugly and weird’.

‘You loved it when we first when to try them one’.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Doris huffed, ‘it’s too peachy’.

‘Too late now,’ Phoebe said, her head hanging over the side of the bed as she scrolled through her phone.

‘I will just wear my usual stuff,’ Doris said hopefully. She could usually get whatever she wanted, surely she could just wear something comfier?

‘Today is not about you,’ Lottie reminded her, wincing as she pulled too tightly on Felicity’s plait and she squealed.

‘Just because i’m the baby,’ Doris signed, ‘I don’t get anything’.

Daisy looked at her incredulously. ‘We all wanted the blue dress, we’ve only gone for the peach because you nearly cried in the shop’. 

‘Why did you trust me?’ Doris said, throwing her hands in the air, ‘I’m 13, i don’t know what I want!’

 

‘I wish you were here Jay,’ Anne said simply, looking into the mirror and holding up her hat. ‘We had planned what we were going to wear on this day for years, hadn’t we? I think one night, over those homemade cocktails, we decided on pastel lilac for you and yellow for me. We would have a competition for the biggest hat.’

She stepped back and wiped away a tear. ‘We’ve left you a chair, next to me we thought. You’re not the only one who should be there next to me; but you better be watching’.

 

‘Can I have a drink too?’ Ernest asking, making his eyes extra big and cute.

Liam signed. ‘How many more times?’

‘I just want a sip!’

‘This is for Louis and I - not for children’.

‘I am not a child!’ Ernest was outraged, ‘and I’m a co best man, just like you!’

Liam thought ahead to Bear’s teenage years and felt nauseous.

 

Harry picked up his pink ribbon, weaving it in and out of his fingers. He didn’t want to wear a tie, or a bow-tie so he had settled on a simple pink ribbon tied at his neck. His shirt was white and his suit black, with tiny flowers embroidered in black thread. He had thought a lot about what to wear on his wedding day, had imagined countless men beaming at him as he walked down the aisle - funny that, always him down the aisle; had even imagined faceless men when he was feeling lonely - imagining feeling so happy and proud with everyone he loved there to celebrate his soon-to-be-husband. Even though he had spent years of his life thinking about it, now it was actually here, he found himself strangely unprepared. Getting to marry someone as wonderful as Louis felt like a wish, and he felt terrified something was going to happen and ruin it all. What if Louis decided Harry was too boring, or weird? What if his ex, Jack, turned up and spoilt the ceremony?

Harry tried to slow his breathing, leaning on the window sill and looking out into the manicured gardens of the hotel. Coated with sparkling snow, it looked like something out of a story book.

‘I can do this,’ he told himself, ‘it will all go to plan, just say our vows and then it’s all done’.

 

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ Louis kicked the bedframe, his petty revenge causing his toe to throb even more. ‘Why is there so much stuff in my way?’ he asked to the empty room.

Easing his foot out of his brogue so he could give it a good rub, Louis looked at the clock on the way. 30 minutes to go, seemed unbelievable. All the planning, hours spent debating flower choices and if so-and-so was still vegan, all for this. If Louis was truly honest, he didn’t necessarily need to be married to Harry. It wasn’t as important to him as it was to Harry, but as he would do anything to make his boy happy - he was prepared to make the commitment. Feeling dizzy, he sat on the bed before flopping back onto the soft pillows and sighing. ‘I can do this,’ he told himself, ‘one step closer to baby Tomlinsons’.

As Harry walked down the aisle he felt strange, a sense of perfect peace came over him and as he met Louis’ eyes, he somehow knew he felt the same. It was as if they had done this all before.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
